


Traditions

by Meruchan0720



Series: Wrong Send [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:43:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1927017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meruchan0720/pseuds/Meruchan0720
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there are kimonos, cross dressing and the traditions that come from that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is kind of like a sequel to Wrong Send found on the link below. The fics I'll be writing in the future is not chronological though.
> 
> This now has its foot in the AU-realm since Akashi’s father is personable in this universe and his mom is just traveling around.
> 
> Part 1: Wrong Send: http://meruchan0720.tumblr.com/post/80395362712/fanfiction-kuroko-no-basuke-wrong-send
> 
> or you can just look in my AO3 profile. :)

Sometimes, people forget that Sei-chan is still a teenage boy. So does Sei-chan, come to think of it.

It’s only to be expected, Mibuchi thinks, after all, he comes from a well off family and though Sei-chan’s father isn’t like what one would see in dramas or, god forbid, soap operas, there is no doubt in Mibuchi’s mind that Sei-chan is being groomed to take over their family’s company. He is more intelligent, responsible, disciplined, determined and mature than most people Mibuchi knows and he can’t even begin to imagine the kind of pressure Sei-chan has to live with every day being their captain and the president of the student council.

He doesn’t look bothered by his family’s and his peers’ expectations. He takes it all in stride, after all, he brings nothing less than perfection in everything he does but he must get tired of that weight on his shoulders sometimes.

Which is why Mibuchi does his part and he picks up Kou-chan, who arrived earlier than expected, from the train station in Sei-chan’s place (because weekend practices are a thing for Rakuzan) and leads him to his favorite shop so they can do something to relieve Sei-chan’s stress (and consequently, the team’s stress, because Sei-chan’s pace is punishing enough on its own but it _multiplies_ when he’s _in a mood_ ).

“Um, Mibuchi-san –”

“Ahem.”

“Um, I mean, Reo-nee… what are we doing at a kimono rental store?”

Mibuchi smiles at Kou-chan innocently, resisting the urge to pinch his cheeks as the younger boy switches his weight from one foot to another and fidgets with his sleeves. His wide, bright brown eyes shifts from him to the store then back again, shoulders bunched up in a nervous gesture. He looks like he wants to run, as if he can sense imminent danger but is struggling not to and Mibuchi can swear even his hair is standing on end, as adorably messy as it is.

“Saa… it’s a surprise,” he chirps at him and ruffles his hair. Kou-chan doesn’t look convinced at all and he chuckles. “It’s a part of experiencing Kyoto. Besides, we have a little time to spare before we’re expected back. I told Sei-chan that I’ll show you around until practice is done.”

Kouki tilts his head to the side, a concerned frown on his face. “What about you? Um, I don’t want you to miss your practice because of me.”

 _Too adorable_ , Mibuchi thinks with glee. Now he understands a little of what Sei-chan saw in him. “Don’t worry about me. Sei-chan and I already talked about it.”

That and what they’re going to do today is worth working a harder regimen in the next couple of days to make up for this one and exposing a secret of his own. He gives him a reassuring smile and leads the way into the shop and they were swarmed by women the moment they came in.

“Ah, Mibuchi-san, it’s been a while!”

“Look at how tall you’ve grown!”

“Who is this young man with you?”

“Oh, my, wherever did you find him?”

“He has really soft hair and pretty eyes. He looks so innocent!”

Before Kouki knew it, he is being ushered further inside, introductions rushed and selections of different kimono from yukata to furisode thrust at his face. Somewhere in the corner of his eye, one of the women is carefully pulling a display of a juni hitoe.

“But… But, these are all girl’s kimonos!”

Mibuchi only beams at him but he will never know exactly what he unleashed the moment he revealed a kimono-wearing Kou-chan to the world (well, mostly Sei-chan, really).

**Ten Years Later**

There is something so sensual about seeing your lover in silk. Seijuurou doesn’t know what draws him to it exactly but he often has to stop and take deep breaths before everything is over all too soon. Tonight, he keeps himself propped on his elbows and watches Kouki writhe and whine impatiently, lying on his back and still partially wearing the kimono Seijuurou purchased (the obi is... somewhere in their room), tightening his hold on their laced fingers on either side of his head as his tabi sock-covered heels dig bruises into Seijuurou’s lower back. It is completely open and spread out on their futon, exposing every inch of him from his neck down to his socked toes, the sleeves covering his well-defined arms almost erotically.

Ten years. It has been ten years and he’s still easily turned on by the sight of Kouki covered in layers upon layers of fine silk kimonos. It’s become a ritual for them, something that they enjoyed together for the simple intimacy of putting it on and taking it off or something much more frenzied, primal and ultimately just as satisfying.

Seijuurou loves how it suits Kouki, softening the rough edges of his decidedly masculine frame without overtaking it. He loves the way it covers his broad shoulders, how the long sleeves of a furisode drapes into elegant, straight lines down to his knees, how the wide, feminine obi is wound around his narrow waist and bound in an intricate bow at the back (though sometimes he wears a taiko bow – Seijuurou’s favorite coupled by his family’s tomesode) and how the hem of an uchikake trails on the ground when he walks. He loves the teasing hints of the smooth skin of his wrists and the tempting column of his neck no matter how he knows every inch of him.

He also loves to take it off him.

Sometimes, he would sit behind Kouki, unraveling the elegant bow, watching it unwind and pool around him. The layers of silk would drape more loosely around his body, open and welcoming and Seijuurou’s hands would wander (and Kouki’s pleasured sighs and gasps fill his ears), settling it over his chest where he could feel the fast beating of Kouki’s heart. It would be soft and cool when he presses his cheek on Kouki’s shoulder, breathing his scent or pressing butterfly kisses on his neck before he pushes it off his shoulders like he is unwrapping the most delicate and precious of gifts.

It would be a slow and sweet night, full of tender touches and whispered words and the kimono will be mostly safe from any questionable substances until the next time Kouki wore it.

Other times, they would be impatient and reckless. Like that time when Kouki still wore the kimono but the silk was bunched around his hips, his thighs splayed wantonly apart over Seijuurou’s groin, riding him. Seijuurou was looking up, his left eye a startling gold, committing every little expression Kouki made to his memory as he moved (up and down, up and down), his hands gripping Seijuurou’s bare shoulders as he worked for his release.

The kimono that night was a pale pink with blue swirling patterns and bunches of sunflowers spread around the hem, sleeves and chest. It remained mostly intact no matter how much Kouki moved and its sleeves (gently, maddeningly) caressed Seijuurou’s bare chest and stomach. Seijuurou held onto Kouki’s silk-covered hips, guiding his movements and meeting his thrusts before he rolled them over and pounded him into the futon, Kouki’s screams of pleasure, of ‘more!’ falling from his lips in an unintelligible litany of words that spurred him to moving ‘faster!’ and ‘harder!’ till his thighs ached. Kouki met him, thrust for thrust, never one to just lie down as he wound his arms around Seijuurou’s neck, pulling him down so he could press kisses to his lips and along his jaw, nipping and sucking and Seijuurou answered with biting kisses of his own, the cool fabric rubbing against his overheated skin. Kouki reached his climax, spasms rocking his body as he came and stained the elegant silk. He buried his face on the crook between Seijuurou’s neck and shoulder, digging his teeth in hard enough to break skin and tightening around the cock inside him while he stifled his broken moans. With a few more thrusts, Seijuurou followed, filling him up with his own release and pulled out, watching his come slowly drip on the patterned fabric.

The kimono was inevitably ruined beyond repair the next day.

Tonight is a bit of both, Seijuurou thinks as he slowly (so _agonizingly_ slowly) pulls out before pushing back in, drawing a strangled moan from Kouki’s lips. Thighs and knees trembling, he braces his feet on the futon and lifts his hips up but Seijuurou keeps still this time, pinning his hips down and just feeling the wet, tight heat around his cock clamping around him compulsively and the hardness trapped between their stomachs.

“S-Seijuurou,” Kouki whispers breathlessly as he tugs fruitlessly at their hands, looking up at him with dazed eyes and a bright flush high on his cheeks. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and temples and his lips were slick and swollen from earlier kisses. “Seijuurou, please stop… _s-stop teasing.”_ He bucks his hips again unsuccessfully and Seijuurou can’t help the breathless chuckle that escapes him as Kouki gives him a sullen look then a pleading one (the one where his dark, glassy eyes widen, bottom lip jutting out and trembling slightly). “ _Go faster, please_.”

Seijuurou doesn’t give in no matter how much he wants to though he can feel his control slipping. He lowers his head and kisses Kouki’s lips then his cheek and jaw before he pulls back and thrusts back in, slow and deliberate, over and over, watching the way Kouki’s eyes roll to the back of his head in ecstasy, his mouth falling open in a silent, breathy sighs.

Seijuurou knows it’s not enough, never enough but he keeps his maddening pace even when Kouki begins to struggle anew, wiggling his hips to get more movement and friction, squeezing him with his thighs and pulling him close by his crossed ankles. He makes a frustrated noise, half whimper, half growl, digging his nails on Seijuurou’s knuckles. “Seijuurou, come on, please. Go faster, _go faster_.”

Realizing that his pleas aren’t going to be heard, a dangerous gleam enters Kouki’s eyes, a gleam that Seijuurou sees only when Kouki is pushed to his limit and enjoys to the fullest. A few quick shifts of his hands had Seijuurou falling on his chest until they are nearly nose to nose to each other.

“Hello, Kouki,” he purrs.

Kouki tries to look indifferent but he bites his lip to keep from smiling and ruins the effect. “You are such a tease.”

“I wanted to take it slow.”

“I don’t _want_ slow,” he says petulantly, nipping hard at Seijuurou’s chin before licking it lightly. “You just like teasing me.”

Seijuurou doesn’t reply because it was true.

“You’re not even denying it. You’re mean.”

Seijuurou chuckles and lowers his face to Kouki’s neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin and feeling his pulse jump. He lets go of Kouki’s hands and places them on Kouki’s cheeks for a kiss, sensitive to hot hands sliding up his back and the delicate whisper of silk that follows and makes him shiver.

Kouki arches his back a little, a shocked little gasp spilling from his lips as he felt Seijuurou’s cock grow harder and bigger inside him just as Seijuurou plunges his tongue past his lips, tasting and relearning, drawing sighs and groans. They part for breath but Seijuurou goes down the length of his body, warm hands running along Kouki’s sides, digging his fingertips on his sensitive spots until Kouki giggles and snorts.

“Sei – _ahnnn_ ,” he moans before he covers his mouth and stifles the sounds he makes, eyes fluttering closed as Seijuurou presses and swirls his thumbs on his hardened nipples through the silk, extremely aware of intense heterochromatic eyes staring at him. He arches his back almost spastically as soon as a hot, wet mouth covers one of his nipples, sucking and licking with just a hint of teeth nipping on the oversensitive nub.

“It feels amazing inside you,” Seijuurou whispers between each breath, hot puffs of air blowing, teasing maddeningly over wet, sensitive flesh making Kouki’s toes curl.

“I love it when you’re inside me, too,” Kouki pants with a soft smile. “You know what would be even better?”

Seijuurou hums in response, a smirk on his lips. “I think I have some idea.” And he demonstrates by bracing himself as he pulls out then plunges in, hard and fast enough to knock the wind out of Kouki’s lungs over and over till he takes hiccupping breaths, hands scrambling for purchase and scratching red marks down Seijuurou’s broad back. He shifts his hips a little, knowing the exact angle to brush the extremely sensitive spot that drives Kouki insane with want and need every single time.

“Oh, _God_ , fuck, _finally_! There, _right there_ , yes,” Kouki gasps, hips undulating underneath the sheer force of Seijuurou’s thrusts before he grabs Seijuurou’s face and kisses him, his moans drowned out between their lips.

He turns his head away with a groan as hot, slender fingers close around his cock, stroking and squeezing until he’s a screaming, wild mess on the brink of release, chanting Seijuurou’s name until he feels the telling pressure in his belly building, tightening. He lets it go and he comes and spills his load on Seijuurou’s hand and his own stomach, his body tired and pliant as he lays limply on the futon.

Kouki whines as Seijuurou’s thrusts grow more unpredictable, thighs trembling as he lifts them over his shoulders and pounds into him freely and with single-minded purpose. He watches Seijuurou through half –lidded eyes, already spent and tired, noting the tension that lines Seijuurou’s form as he continues his erratic rhythm till he comes and Kouki sighs in pleasure as he feels liquid heat flood his insides.

Seijuurou presses his forehead against Kouki’s, looking into his eyes, their breaths mingling. They share one more kiss before Seijuurou pulls out completely and flops gracelessly on the other side of the futon, grabbing a wet rag set aside earlier that evening. He watches as Kouki sits up gingerly, peeling off the layers of silk that stuck to his skin and folds it as best as he can before Seijuurou goes about wiping the rag over the mess on his stomach.

“There has to be some limit to how many kimonos we’re going to ruin,” Kouki mumbles. “I mean, I enjoy them a lot but I don’t want to be wasteful. They’re so beautiful, too.”

“Hn. I only buy a new one when there are… special occasions.”

Kouki levels Seijuurou with his best unimpressed stare. It doesn’t work. “This is the fourth one this month.”

Seijuurou concedes with a genial nod before he smiles innocently. “We have a lot of special occasions.”

Knowing not to push a losing battle, Kouki sighs, smiling helplessly before he pecks Seijuurou on the lips. “Come on, bath time.”

“Ah, good idea. It’s much too early to go to bed so we’ll continue in the tub.”

“That’s not what I said!”

But Seijuurou is already up and pulling him along to the adjoining bathroom where they stop to share another kiss.

“Happy Anniversary, Seijuurou.”

“Happy Anniversary to you, too, Kouki.”

**Ten Years Ago…**

Kouki is more than a little horrified to see a virtual stranger in the mirror, looking back at him with his face – make-up applied in flatteringly natural shades, long hair bound to the top of his head securely with ribbons, jeweled clips and beaded pins and, of course, wearing the furisode with its very long sleeves, bright colors and intricate designs.

He thinks he looks ridiculous no matter how much the women all coo at him, reassuring him that it surprisingly fits him so well but the dread only comes when he hears the telling click of a camera phone and Seijuurou’s voice from the entrance of the shop.

He can only stand there, frozen and not hearing anything anymore as Seijuurou approaches with an annoyed look on his face. An ugly feeling rises in him, churning and roiling, but the moment those red eyes land on him, he sees the surprise in their depths and the pleased smile curving Seijuurou’s lips.

He finds himself answering that smile shyly and he thinks that this, though embarrassing, is worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: So… not exactly what I envisioned but it went there anyway. X____X  
> Reviews and comments are very much appreciated as always.
> 
> Terms:  
> Tabi socks – traditional Japanese socks with split toe  
> Furisode – kimono worn by unmarried women  
> Obi – an intricately designed sash tied at the waist  
> Taiko bow – an obi bow that resembles a taiko drum and used by married women  
> Tomesode – formal kimono worn by married women  
> Uchikake – kimono worn like a coat by a bride  
> Juni Hitoe – kimono worn by Heian royalty


End file.
